Strange Companions
by Yoshtar
Summary: I was trapped, the darkness surrounding and consuming me, the infected my wardens, and subtle changes brought about by gifts from the greater infected. this is what happened to me, I don't want to share, but i fear for my sanity if i don't. My name is Amber, and this is my story. summary sucks, but still good story. rating will change eventually, but for now its T.
1. Chapter 1

**Well it has been a LONG time since I wrote Sweet Tooth. After a few campaigns in my recently acquired copy of Left 4 Dead 2, inspiration struck me for a new story, based in Left 4 Dead.**

Oh god, not good, NOT GOOD!

I ran across the nearly empty streets, anything approaching me receiving a quick burst from ol' Glory. The SMG that had gotten me through thick and thin and countless zombies was running on its second to last magazine. It was gonna be a bitch to have to fill all those empty magazines again.

The sound of twisting steel told me that my pursuer had broken free and would be on me in a few seconds. I ducked into a thankfully empty alley between two of the suburban homes and lunged into a soft pile of corpses, praying that their stench would cover my own. I only had enough time to make it look like I was a recent addition instead of truly burying myself before my pursuer rounded the corner.

I nearly gagged on the sickly sweet smell that emanated from her, and had to fight to remain still enough that my breathing wouldn't be noticed as those claws, each diamond hard, just over razor sharp, and maybe a foot long each, approached me.

The witch saw that her prey had somehow disappeared, but even she knew that prey do not simply vanish into thin air. The prey must be hiding.

She sniffed the air following the scent that had led her there. It grew stronger as she entered deeper into the alley, and she quickly found the source of it.

Not that I knew this of course. I just sat there, still as I could manage, attempting to play dead as the witch turned her head to face me. I couldn't help but notice that her face seemed untouched by the infection. As I looked into her eyes I saw a keen intelligence burning, instead of the usual utter misery or complete anger.

Then she smiled, and not in the cute bubbly way. The smile was one of purely malicious intent. She attempted to move some corpses in m pile, thankfully the formerly gag inducing smell no longer bothered me, and she didn't attempt to move me.

After several gut wrenching minutes the witch sat down across the alleyway from my pile, slowly staring at where I was. i was screwed in every way, as eventually I would have to move, and it didn't help that I had some stiffs elbow jabbing me in the back.

* * *

Huh? When did I go to sle- oh fuck.

I'm lying on the hard dirt of the alley, and theres the witch, standing above me.

To say I'm stunned is an understatement, to say I'm screwed is the understatement of the century.

I've seen from afar how unfortunate survivors fall as they stumble upon Witches, their good hearted nature or clumsy coordination leading to swift and angry death, leaving naught more than a sobbing witch and an unrecognizable lump of meat for the commons or the occasional pack of hunters to fight over.

I prepare for the absolute worst fate that I can imagine when I see that malicious smile, and that keen intelligence. The witch shakes her head at me before walking to the end of the alley, running her claws over the red brick of the house. She then screams, which sends the commons running, before taking off herself, soon escaping sight and eventually earshot.

I only have time for one question before my brain enters thermonuclear meltdown.

"What The Fuck just happened?"

**Okay, its just a quickie, but I promise more soon. Responses will only make further chapters happen faster.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well… I got some time; a little more story writing can't hurt.**

Since…since wh… since when do zombies NOT kill people? Since when did witches get smart? Honestly WHAT THE FUCK!

Eventually after some stammering and a few misguided attempts to restart my brain, a low growl snaps me back to reality. Automatically ingrained survival habits rumble into gear, dragging my scrambled thoughts with them.

First off, weapons. Neither my shotgun, nor Ol' Glory are where they should be. The best I have is the large pistol in my hip holster. Well it was better than nothing, but I'm gonna need at least my MP5 out of the pile of refuse before I go anywhere with a pack of hunters about. Luckily its just lying on top of everything.

Even with the magazine count low, I ready myself in case one of the pack find me. Gun in hand, I try to dig my backpack out of the pile of bodies. Unfortunately for me I don't hear the screech and find myself knocked to the side. Blessedly the hunter does his job too well and I find myself simply bowled over and not pinned as he bounces off of me and skids down the alley. I quickly grab my gun, which is only centimeters from my hand and send the rookie a small spray of bullets. I hear a satisfying yelp as the rookie collects some scars possibly dying. he's not about to bother me for a bit. though i know that if he's found me there's a lot of them about to hit me like a pack of wolves.

I quickly roll to the side, knowing how hunters operate, and find myself narrowly missing getting pinned for real. This spray leaves the hunter twitching on the floor. Sitting up I get the one that's blocked off the alley, who jumps to avoid the spray.

I 'sense' a presence behind me and don't bother wasting any time putting the last of the magazine in the stupid hunters face. I stand up as I reload, reaching for my last mag and turn around. There at the end of the alley is the biggest hunter I've ever seen.

We regard each other for a golden moment of tense silence before he pounces. I'm faster on the trigger and spray at face with lead, and get more in his chest as he bowls me over. He lands on my stomach and manages to take a swipe at my face. Pain lances across my face as he narrowly misses my eye, and instead gouges three long bloody furrows across my face.

Thankfully before he can take a swing with the other arm, my arm finishes its arc from the wild burst of fire as i accidentally squeezed the trigger as i got bowled over, and find a bullet punching through the soft patch under his jaw. The hunter immediately falls limp. Not able to believe my suddenly golden streak of luck I then crawl out from under the now dead weight of the hunter and find that the death of the alpha has scared the other hunters away.

I kick his face whilst he's down for good measure anyway. bastard.

The best part is that I manage to find my backpack as well! Nothing seems to be damaged and the Ithaca M37 seems to be in good shape as well. Not that I'll attempt to test fire it anywhere but a safe house just in case.

I make my way out of this alley and checked the map in my pocket. The safe house I was heading to should be somewhere nearby. In fact I had almost gotten there when I had accidentally tripped over that ... smart... witch.

I retraced my steps and found the way unbarred now. I continued on, though I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

That witch hadn't been crying. Which was weird to say the least, they always cried. This one just chose to stay silent in the dark, I hadn't seen it and it hadn't told me it was there until I had tripped over it. its not as proactive i guess, but then again, i ran into her didn't i?

_CLANG!_

Trust me to get lost in thought and walk straight into the safe house door. That'll be the oddest bruise to explain. 'oh hey how'd you get that?', 'I walked into a door'. I really need to pay more attention.

* * *

Locking the door and setting the deadbolt across, I prepared to settle in for the night. I am in no state to go rampaging through the apocalypse anymore today.

Okay, first things first, I have to stop the various cuts on my body from bleeding. I took off my shirt and paid close attention to everywhere it hurt. The antiseptic cream stung like crazy when I applied it to the claw marks on my face, but they felt much better soon after. though that might've just been me. i then administered some quick bandaging work on the rest of my wounds, the claw marks here, that bloody scratch there, a little to brace that wound, you get the picture. soon I was finished and I noticed with a sigh that my bandaging work has become a lot better. stupid zombies.

I was about to put my shirt back on when I noticed something. There was a set of scars shaped like dashes arranged in a vaguely U-shaped pattern on my shoulder. Of course I don't need to tell you that they were bite marks. The Zombies don't actually bite all that often, being content with beating and clawing at you until you stopped moving, biting when convenient, not exclusively.

However, I don't remember ever getting bitten there. Sure I've got a few bites that have drawn blood, all from commons that got the jump on me (yeah I know, a sick and very angry person got the jump on me. go figure.) but this new bite looked like the teeth had gone deep, ad i'm sure i would remember a bite like that. I'm actually surprised I didn't bleed out, even I can tell that it was a rough job, with how jagged the scars look.

Well its there, and I'm damn sure I'm immune or I would be walking outside looking for living people to eat. I suppose I can't worry about it too much.

I busy myself locating the essentials around the Safe house: food, water, a place to sleep, and creature comforts.

The Safe house is actually a small three room apartment on the second floor of a condominium, so I had a number of the fourth category, and someone had the mind to stock it before I got here. I almost cried when I found that the shower still ran hot water.

After my shower I examined my features, I still had my golden honey-coloured hair, which had inspired my Dad to call me Amber, he was a lovable goof, and there have been worse names. The green eyes sunken into my face underneath my forehead were still the same, and that same rounded face poked out from the still-damp tendrils framing my face.

i did look a bit pale though, but that could've been the light… I suppose the weeks of a diet consisting of whatever junk food was left in these safe houses didn't help either. Plus the running around praying that the next bullet wouldn't be my last.

I spent the rest of the day holed up in the safe house. The wounds and bruises I had collected prevented me from going anywhere today anyways.

* * *

I slept a restless sleep that night, I had a horrible nightmare. I was walking through a street, full of zombies, WITHOUT my guns. For some reason the zombies seemed to not notice me at all, though I did my best to not bump into them just in case.

Afterwards there was some crazy bit that's still a little hazy, but the very next thing I remember is having a witch standing over me. Instead of sneering though, this one had the common decency to eviscerate me. its better than whatever happened earlier, even if i died. It didn't stop there though. I felt myself lying there in excruciating pain. Things get a little hazy from there and then I woke up.

This was to a large hole in the ceiling and a hunter pinning my arms to my sides, his face twisted in a horrible grin of malice as he sniffed at me…

**Its longer than the last chapter… shut up! and i have a nice little cliffie for you people. i know how much you guys like them.**

**The first chapter was a bolt of inspiration from the blue, this chapter… well I kinda left myself without a direction, i just wanted to get that brilliant scene out of my head and into the world, though I think I have something hammered out here now.**

**questions in both reviews and PMs are greatly appreciated, just be polite, and double check your work so that its coherent.**

**Hope you enjoy! Ciao!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well… I suppose I have nothing better to… oh. Well then, I REALLY should get writing.**

(_helphe'sgotagun)_

**Well...come… welcome, to the latest chapter of Strange Companions.**

**Just a quick heads-up for y'all. There is some grim-dark shite happening in this chapter, and I'm afraid that it's going to bump this story up to an M rating. Sorry guys in advance.**

**I just know I'm going to get hate-mail.**

* * *

_I woke up to a hunter pinning my arms to the sides, face contorted in a malicious grin as he sniffed at me._

That was then, now I'm just plain kidnapped. I have no idea where I am, the room is too dark for me to make out anything, I'm bleeding from my wounds, which had opened up, sore all over, and without a light source.

I have no idea of how long I spent in that room. Months, years? I couldn't tell. My only respite was when the door opened, and one special infected or another dragged in food. At first it was backpacks filled with cans and bottles of water, but they seemed to have some sick game where they would pull the fresh corpse of one survivor or another who had recently 'passed on'. They starved me either until the rot started showing, or… well… I had to resort to cannibalism.

The first time I didn't even want to. I was delirious and dizzy. I wasn't in my right mind and I was very desperate. I nearly had it come straight back up after, but I managed to keep it down somehow.

I have never experienced a lower point in my life ever, than when I'm picking the RAW meat off of a human limb. I never ate the offal, I couldn't bring myself to. Everything after a point was a big feverish blur though. I can't tell you if I didn't give in. I sure hope I didn't.

Escape wasn't an option either, since whatever special infected was bringing me food was always too fast for me, and I was always brought back to the dark room, and my prison eagerly accepted me back. the starvation was always worse after they caught me if i tried to escape.

Eventually they stopped bringing the cans. Instead they just brought more meat, sick meat, warm meat. I tried and failed to stick to my principles, I really did. But the starvation I had to endure when I did… well, the tactic was working.

They also beat me. Sometimes they would let a common or two in and the beating wouldn't stop until I stopped moving, or they died. I had to kill more than a few of them during my stay in that room.

Did I tell you I cried? yeah I cried a lot. This imprisonment and torture was building up on me. This seemed to only bolster their efforts to cause even more misery, starving me longer and beating me more savagely.

Thankfully it would seem that something up there noticed my plight…

* * *

…So… hungry…

My belly growled in frustration, it pained and ate away at itself, but I couldn't give in. the latest corpse had already been eaten. The bones scattered around where I sat in this twilight evidence of that.

But I was still hungry, and the corpse wouldn't rot enough for at least… well I don't know how long, but a long enough time that I was going to starve long before then. I…I needed food…bad.

I…I'm gonna have to do this…I'm going to have to eat the rest of him…

I dry swallowed… I started on the chest, I tried not to think about what I was doing…but I was hungry. I quickly ate what I could, and it whilst it filled out the bottom…I was still hungry.

The belly was tantalizing, but I forced myself not to give in. I reached in and grabbed something slippery, quickly pulling it out. I raised it to my lips, wrestling with my gag reflex and conscience. Then there was the annoying little voice with the creepiest ideas that was egging me on.

I nearly ate whatever it was, when I heard something. The sound was preternaturally loud to my ears that hadn't heard anything above a low growl for however long I had been here. The little voice howled in disappointment, as I recognized it as gunfire, and guns in full operation usually meant survivors. With this realization I felt something in my chest, something I hadn't felt in ages. Hope, hope of escape from this hell I had been living in for far too long.

There were other survivors out there, other people. I called out, my voice incredibly gravelly and sore, I didn't get much out, but I guess it was enough. I heard a lock click on the door, and then light blared in my eyes, I screeched at the sudden exposure, throwing my hands in front of my face.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF-!" one of the survivors shouted incredibly loud.

"WITCH!" another one shouted, even louder.

I stumbled back and crawled away from them trying to get as far away as possible.

"WAIT!" another survivor shouted, why were they so loud? Why were they all so loud?

"WHAT IS IT?!" the first one screamed

"THIS ONE LOOKS…DIFFERENT!" the third one yelled.

There was a brief moment of silence, where I guessed that they exchanged looks and gestures, but I couldn't see any of it, the light was so bright it hurt through my eyelids.

"lights off!" one of them said, in what I guessed to be a whisper. Though I could still hear it like they were right next to me.

"get away from that thing" the first one said

"it ain't killed us yet, so I'm guessing she won't kill us now" the friendly one said.

She got that right, if anything they were more of a danger to me.

I felt a burning hand on my shoulder and looked to see the survivor there, smiling at me in the gloom. She had her short hair tied back in a small bun and I could make out a small rounded face in the murk.

"can… can you understand me? Can you nod your head if you do?" she said in a hushed tone.

I nodded my head, which caused the survivors to recoil a bit.

"I…I can" I said quietly

Another recoil in shock.

"c-can you get me out of h-here?" I asked.

After a few seconds to process this, the survivor in front of me finally said "yes"

At that I threw myself into her, hugging her as tightly as I could and sobbing into her shoulder, crying for joy.

I heard the clicks and clacks of a shotgun being aimed at me, but I didn't let go. I just felt the burning warmth of the survivor's hand patting my back. Seriously did she have a fever or something? Or did I?

Eventually she let go of me and pulled me to my feet. I stumbled for a bit, but she caught me.

"c'mon, lets get you out of here" she said, propping me against herself

"guys we need to get moving" my friend said "we're taking her with us"

There was a round of complaints but I guess my friend silenced them with a glare.

"she's not going to kill you if you don't hurt her, and she isn't a witch." My friend said. I must look really bad if they're mistaking me for a witch.

"Hannah, she can't come with us, you know that" the fourth survivor, who had mysteriously held his peace until now, said.

"I don't think she's all the way gone" the person who I guessed was Hannah said.

"well lets ask her" the one who had shone the light in my eyes said "did you happen to eat anyone before we got to you?"

"NOLAN!" Hannah shouted. I winced in pain when she shouted at Nolan with my ear right next to her mouth.

"y-yes" all eyes were on me as I said this, the dried blood on my hands and face a dead giveaway anyways

"what?!" the third one, who had insensitively shouted witch earlier, suddenly shouted. Thankfully the noise wasn't deafening anymore, maybe my ears were adjusting.

"see! She cannot be trusted!" Nolan said

"shut up Nolan!" Hannah said. "did you really eat someone?"

"j-j-just the arms.. and the legs!" I said, terrified out of my mind.

"no organs? No marrow?" Hannah asked.

"if you hadn't gotten here, then yes. I dropped it as soon as I heard the gunshots." I said "you don't understand, they starved me!"

"who starved you?" the quiet one said

"T-T-They did. the big ones. The really big special infected." I said, pausing for a moment before adding "I thought I was immune, I'd been bitten before"

"but only by commons?" the third survivor said

"y-yeah." I said.

"we've been getting a few like you, but they'd always been too far gone. Complaining on and on about a voice" the third one said. "they say they first heard it after they'd finally done what you had been about to do."

That sounded scary close to what I was experiencing; though I didn't mention that. I didn't want to die out here.

"well it looks like we got to ya in the nick of time, now then we have a fort, and an evac to get to folks, now lets MOVE!" the quiet one said looking at his watch.

We moved, but with me relying on Hannah to stay upright it was slow going. Thankfully my legs seemed to remember how to walk, albeit clumsily, after a while.

We walked through the city as quietly as possible, to help protect my sensitive ears. Though I just slapped my hands over them when they did have to shoot, or I ran as fast as possible to a safe distance if it got really hectic.

As the sun touched the horizon, I found myself walking through a camp filled to the brim with people in Hazmat suits.

Now when I say camp, I don't mean that little thing you make when out hiking, or even the slightly bigger one that scouts go to, but rather something that smacked more of the roman legions of old. There were rows and rows of tents and nearly no permanent buildings other than the wall. Clearly there had been a military base or an airport here before.

I was taken to the big tent which seemed to be the medical centre where they sat me on a table and ran me through a whole bunch of tests and gathered samples of just about everything, hair, blood, spit, urine, you name it really.

As they were doing some esoteric test I asked: "do I really look that bad?"

The doctor examining me seized up for a bit and then realized I hadn't been shown my own face. Apologizing profusely, the man rushed out of the tent for a few minutes, before coming back out of breath and holding a hand mirror.

I took the mirror, being careful of my fingernails, which I had realized had sharpened themselves into little claws a while back. The claws were reminiscent of the hunters claws, but straighter.

It was as bad as I thought, my hair had lightened a few shades from what it was normally meant to be, even going pure white in some places, my irises had lost all of their pigment and were red from all the little blood vessels in my retina. With all the filth and dried blood on my face I'm sure I looked more than a little scary.

My clothes were torn and ragged, though what had been inflicted and what was accidentally done to myself.

Needless to say I collapsed into a crying, sobbing heap.

Curled up in the fetal position, hugging my knees I felt my misery swirl around, choking and suffocating me…

**And that's chapter 3. I suppose this is going to have my most controversial material yet, and the most controversial material I'll produce for some time now.**

**Right now, I would LOOOVE me some reviews, so if you can send me some, that would be wonderous. Try to leave reviews in one big opinion on the latest chapter, not a clusterf**k of tiny ones that take forever to clean out of my inbox.**


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